


Can See It In Your Eyes

by edi-neil (sweet_trick)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Multi, Smut, Succubi & Incubi, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-26 18:53:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7586005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweet_trick/pseuds/edi-neil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis loves sex. Maybe a little too much. It gets to a point where he feels he should probably get some help for it, though. So, naturally, he goes to a sex addicts meeting. Where he meets Harry. Who isn't quite your average addict. (If you can call an addict average.) Harry's a bit more than he bargains for, but they make it work. Eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can See It In Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Awriterwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awriterwrites/gifts).



> I'd like to thank everyone for taking a chance on this! It's my first time posting here, so I hope it's alright. 
> 
> For Awriterwrites - I hope you don't mind that I switched up the prompt a bit... I hope you still like it!
> 
> Thanks to my beta reader, E. You're a champ.

Louis has always loved sex.

He loves the sharp focus that comes with foreplay, the wholly intense feeling of buildup involving fingers, teeth and tongue. The hazy come-down after experiencing a wild orgasm is probably one of the best feelings in the world. It’s not that he’s a slag – or, rather, he’s not a self-professed one, at least. He just loves sex.

But, lately it’s gotten a bit much? Louis loves a good fuck, usually on the weekends, but for the last month or so, he’s found himself aching for it more than usual. It’s gotten to the point where he’s about to damn his own standards. For instance, he’s in the lineup at the cinema to see some shitty super hero movie with Liam, and all he can focus on is Liam’s biceps and taut stomach. Old Louis would never check out Liam. They’ve been friends since primary school, for Christ’s sake! But Louis knows what Liam’s packing, knows what’s going on downstairs, and _it is all he can think about_.

“Alright, Lou?” Liam looks at him with concerned brown eyes, and Louis expects to feel a stab of shame for ignoring his best friend’s attempts at conversation, but there’s none. Just overwhelming want.

Louis shakes his head, “I don’t think so, Lee,” He takes a step out of line, and motions for Liam to stay in his spot. “Just got hit with a bit of a stomach thing, I think. It’s probably best if I go home.” The statement isn’t much of a lie; his stomach is clenching and rolling, and Louis can practically feel the blood rushing southwards. His crotch is practically his stomach, right? Technicalities. He’s got to go, right now.

“Take care of yourself!” Liam calls after him, as Louis rushes off to take care of his steadily growing problem. “Text me!”

Louis can’t be bothered to look back as he rushes away, focussed on making it to the Tube before the train comes in ten minutes. “Just got to get home,” He chants under his breath, “Take care of it at home, distract myself at home.” Not paying close attention to his surroundings, Louis screeches in surprise when someone brushes up against him on the street. When he gets a good look at the person, however, his sudden shock turns into a deep flush of lust. Louis is sure the person is apologizing but all he can take in is quiffed hair and a chiseled jaw.

“Fuck me,” He blurts out, then slaps a hand over his mouth, because no, that was not supposed to come out!

To his credit, Hot Stranger doesn’t immediately call for help, but instead cocks his head and asks, “I beg your pardon?”

 _Just apologize and move away_ , Louis’ brain thinks but his mouth obviously doesn’t get the memo: “You’re really fucking hot.”

“Thanks?” Hot Stranger raises an eyebrow, and smirks slowly. Louis can’t help but stare at his lips. He wants that mouth. “You want what?” The deeply accented voice asks, and Louis flushes when he realizes he’s said that aloud. But, in for a penny, in for a pound.

“Your mouth.”

The smirk turns into a dark, leering smile, and Hot Stranger gestures somewhere off to the side, “We could take this elsewhere then?”

Louis wastes no time, grabbing the other guy’s hand and pulling him down an alley. He couldn’t care less if anyone saw them right now. Chances are, someone has seen the pair go off the main street, but Louis is consumed by the thought of hands on him. Christ, his mouth is practically watering. Once he figures they are far enough away from prying eyes, he pushes the other man against a stone wall, immediately going for the button on his jeans.

“Thought you wanted _my_ mouth?” The stranger asks, huskily, then throws his head back when Louis gets on his knees. Normally, Louis would have a witty response but he’s too busy pulling the guy’s cock out of his pants. He takes a brief moment to look up and appreciate the line of the man’s neck then turns his attention back to the cock in his hand.

Louis loves sucking cock; he’s always taken that as a point of pride. He’s a self-appointed deep-throating king. So that’s what he does. He takes the guy’s cock straight down, not bothering to mess around. The strangled moan that makes its way to his ears seems appreciative, so Louis keeps going. He swallows around the cock in his throat, letting himself get used to the sensation, before pulling off to lick at the head.

“ _Fuck_.”

Quickly, Louis gets his own cock out, tugging at it roughly with one hand while pushing back the foreskin on the cock in his other. A quiet part of his mind idly wonders at his actions, but Louis ignores it. He licks up and down the shaft, getting sloppy with it. There’s a sharp pain as the stranger tugs at his hair but Louis revels in it. He pulls his mouth off to let out a hissed “ _Yes_ ,” then gets back to deep-throating.

It isn’t long before the hair-pulling intensifies, and Hot Stranger is practically fucking Louis’ mouth. Louis doesn’t care, completely blissed out as he pulls at his own cock, rapidly approaching orgasm.

“I’m gonna come,” He hears, and pulls back a little, suckling at the tip and fondling at the other guy’s balls. “Fuck, shit, fuck!”

Louis lets the hot, bitter come fill his mouth, feels a little bit leak out the side of his lips, and comes himself. Letting the cock slip out of his mouth, he leans back, keeping his eyes closed, and jerks himself through the aftershocks. As he slowly comes back to awareness, Louis can hear the guy above him panting, can feel the fist still clenched loosely in his hair, and feels dirty. Any high he may have felt is dashed away as he forces his eyes open and takes in his surroundings. The come drying on his chin feels disgusting, and Louis feels ashamed of his actions. It’s one thing to get someone off in a club toilet, but in a dirty alley? He needs to go.

Getting slowly to his feet, Louis keeps his head down, refusing to make eye contact with the man leaning against the wall. He scrubs at his face, trying to get any traces of come off, and tucks himself back into his jeans. A flash of white appears in his eye line.

“Here,” The guy’s deep voice says, “A tissue.”

Louis takes the offered tissue, swiping it over his face, before chancing a look up. The man’s quiff has wilted slightly, and now that Louis is looking at him, actually looking, he can tell the man is a fair bit older than him. The shame deepens. What is wrong with him?

“Thanks,” The man continues, oblivious to Louis’ inner thoughts. “That was fun. I’d say to let me return the favour, but,” He gestures to Louis’ crotch and laughs, “Looks like you’re already taken care of it. Maybe you can come back to mine? We could-”

But Louis doesn’t wait for him to finish; he bolts away, intent on getting as far from that alley as he possibly can. He just wants to get home. He wants his bed, and to feel clean again. Most importantly, Louis wants to know what’s happening to him.

***

Later that night, after showering, and jerking his traitorous cock to the alley scene replaying in his head, Louis pulls up the internet on his laptop. He needs to figure himself out, needs to get help. He goes into Google, and types ‘ _how much sex is too much_ ’ in the search bar. The results are confusing, but what did he expect. One source says that there is no such thing as too much sex, that wanting sex all the time is normal for men. Another says something about sex addiction and Louis narrows his eyes at it. The label seems to fit; he definitely more-than-wants sex. If Louis is going to be honest with himself, he _needs_ sex. Fuck sake, he can’t even keep himself from wanking to one of the most shameful experiences he’s ever had!

So, he looks up counselling services for sex addicts.

A surprising amount of results pop up on screen. Louis can’t be bothered to look into all of them, clicking on the first one. It’s a very professional looking website, with the bold title of “Sex Addicts Anonymous” splashed across the top. Well, Louis thinks, if the label fits. He scans the page, clicking on a “Counselling” tab. He takes down the info, grateful that the group is meeting the next day, and that they accept new, walk-in clients.

Tomorrow, he thinks, shutting down his computer, he’s going to figure out what’s going on with him. Even if it costs hundreds of dollars, Louis is going to fix this problem. He refuses to be ruled by his dick!

***

Sitting in a comfortable chair, in an uncomfortable circle of strangers, Louis almost backs out. His dick can’t be _that_ wrong, he reasons with himself, panicking internally. Sex is fine! Sex is great! He’s not addicted to sex! The person in the chair beside him shifts in her seat, and Louis flinches away. There is absolutely no one in the room that he felt attraction to, and he thanks God for that.

See, definitely not a sex addict.

“Welcome to Sex Addicts Anonymous!” The counselor calls out, waving a hand. Louis cradles his face in his hands, refusing to look up. “Please, everyone, have a seat so we can get started.” Vaguely, Louis can hear the door close once more before the counselor continues, “Harry, that means you as well. Take a seat. Excuse me, sir, eyes up here, please!”

Mentally rolling his eyes at the teacher-like attitude of the counselor, Louis looks up only to get a good look at the latecomer, Harry.

Holy. Fuck.

Harry is gorgeous. He is literally walking sex.

Louis wants him.

He’s sure he is gaping at the other man, but can’t help himself. Vaguely, he wonders if anyone else is looking at Harry like that. A quick glance to his left shows that the woman he’d peeked at earlier is leaning towards Harry much like he is. A bizarre flash of anger burns in Louis’ chest. She can fuck right off.

The anger recedes almost completely as Harry locks eyes with Louis, and is replaced with a slow spread of lust. Louis can’t help himself; he bats his eyelashes at the man sitting across the circle from him, purposefully giving himself bedroom eyes. He knows he looks good like this, and, judging from the look Harry is giving in return, it’s effective. Louis watches as Harry’s tongue pokes out to wet his lips, and the image sends his imagination spiraling. Just the thought of Harry’s plush, pink lips is enough to get his dick twitching in his pants. He wonders if Harry can tell. And rather than feel dirty or shameful, Louis feels excited. He wants Harry. Badly.

His obsessive thoughts are interrupted by the counselor pointing at him. “You with the blue jumper, would you like to introduce yourself to the group?”

Louis can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, “Actually,” He replies, “Could I maybe just, um, go to the toilets first? Sorry.”

The counselor dismisses him, and Louis catches the beginning of his neighbour’s introduction as he escapes the room. “I’m Andrea and lately, I just feel like I’ve been so needy? Like-”

***

The stall wall is cool against Louis’ cheek as he leans against it, pressing the palm of his hand on his now-throbbing cock. He hopes, probably in vain, that his problem will go away without him having to take care of it here in a public toilet. A flashback to Harry licking his lips definitely dismisses that thought.

“Shit,” He hisses through his teeth, giving in to the urge to unbutton his trousers. Those damn lips! Louis is definitely going to get off to them in this stall. He can’t help himself; he moans out a muffled, “ _Harry_.”

“Yes?” A low voice resounds through the toilet, and Louis lets out a shocked squeak. His grip tightens almost painfully on his cock. “Are you alright in there, love?”

_Fuckfuckfuck._

Louis can hear Harry step closer to the stall, mentally berating himself for not paying attention earlier. He could have definitely avoided this situation if he hadn’t been paying attention to his damn cock!

Louis musters up his voice, willing it to stay steady, “Er, yep, all good in here!” He replies, glad to hear only the slightest waver. “No need to worry about me!”

“Are you sure about that?” Harry is right outside the stall door, “You could let me in to check?”

And Louis opens the stall door.

Harry is _sinful_. The first thing that Louis notices are his eyes: deep, mossy green, looking straight into his own. Then, Harry’s lips: curved into a dark, dangerous smile that creates-

“Are those _dimples_?” Louis asks, sexual tension momentarily forgotten.

Harry bursts out laughing. “Yeah, I guess so,” His voice is syrupy slow, and the laughter erases the dark aura surrounding him. His eyes are sparkling, practically glowing, and Louis inexplicably finds him even more attractive. Harry cocks an eyebrow, looking down at Louis pointedly, “Looks like you _do_ have a bit of a problem there, though.”

But Louis is ready. “I like to think of it as more than just a ‘bit’, personally.” He raises his chin, and grins sharply. Harry laughs again, but it’s taken on a dark tone again. He moves into Louis’ space, cups his chin in his _ohmygod_ _huge_ hand, and looks down at Louis.

“Let me?” Is all he says, and Louis nods, breathless. Harry gently pushes him back against the wall, and gets on his knees.

Anything Louis had been fantasizing about Harry’s mouth before pales in comparison to the real deal. He gazes, enraptured, at the top of Harry’s head, and places a tentative hand on the chocolate brown curls. Harry nuzzles into the touch, angles his head so that Louis can get a good look at his face, and swallows down Louis’ cock.

Louis keens, throwing his head back violently. He isn’t the only one blessed with no gag reflex, it seems. Harry hums around the cock in his mouth, looking up at Louis with wide, tear-glazed eyes, and Louis nearly comes from the sight of it. His hand is still resting lightly on Harry’s hair, but Harry grabs his wrist, forcing him to grab on harder.

“You can pull, y’know,” Harry pulls off Louis’ cock to rasp, “Both hands, I don’t mind.” He gets right back to it, leaving Louis dumbfounded. But he raises his other hand to tug lightly on a curl, and Harry groans. It makes Louis feel bolder.

He pulls again with one hand, the other grasping tightly at the roots. “ _You_ know,” He manages to sound casual, “I’ve never been one for pain, m’self. Not much, anyway.”

Harry pulls off, “We could change that, probably.”

Louis has to close his eyes at the thought. Has to, because if he doesn’t, he’s likely to come right then and there, all over Harry’s face. Not that he’d have an issue with that. He’s sure Harry wouldn’t either.

It’s almost as if Harry can read his mind. “You wanna come in my mouth, or…?” He leaves it open-ended, torturing Louis.

“Your-” Louis gasps, eyes still closed, “Oh my god, Harry, your face!” And he feels a huge hand wrap around his cock, stroking him roughly. He comes within a matter of seconds, forcing his eyes open to watch himself spurt thick ropes of white all over Harry’s face. Louis watches as drops of it slide off Harry’s eyelashes, watches as Harry’s tongue licks it off of his plush, red lips.

He might be in love.

Of course, Harry has to wreck any moment that Louis might have been building up in his head. “I figured you would last longer.”

“ _Rude_!” Louis gasps, outraged. “I will have you know, _Harry_ , that normally I do last much longer but this was an extenuating circumstance! Have you _seen_ yourself?”

Harry just bursts into laughter. He laughs so hard that he actually has to sit on the floor. Eventually, he calms down enough to ask, “How are you feeling?” His eyes are bright green and doing that damn sparkly thing again. Louis is obsessed.

But he doesn’t understand what Harry is saying. “What do you mean, mate? Feeling pretty good, aren’t I?”

That stops Harry’s laughter. His tone becomes abruptly serious. “You’re sure?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I. Just had one of the best orgasms, ever, probably.” Louis takes a deep breath, then takes a chance. “I’m Louis. Tomlinson.”

Harry looks deep into Louis’ eyes, “It’s nice to officially meet you, Louis. I’m Harry. Styles.” He mocks Louis slightly, cracking a slight grin. But as quickly as it comes up, it goes away. “You’re sure you’re alright yeah? This was kind of sudden…”

With a shrug, Louis pushes himself away from the wall, “’Course, Harry. I mean, it’s not like I told you to stop or anything.” And maybe he should feel ashamed, but Louis just feels curiously emotionless about this experience. It was fun - more than fun, if he was being honest. Much different than his experience in the alley yesterday, though the circumstances were similar. He cocks his head, “Are you alright?”

Harry’s expression changes rapidly, dimples bursting as he smiles widely. “Well,” He gestures down at his own crotch, “I could be feeling better.”

Harry hasn’t come yet.

Louis gapes at the man in front of him. “Oh, _no_.” He looks up to see Harry’s eyes get all crinkly, still doing that sparkly thing. “Oh, my god, Harry, I’m so sorry!” He drops to his knees, still apologizing, “Shit, Harry, let me take care of that. I can’t believe-”

“Louis,” Harry grasps his shoulders, pulls him up, “It’s fine, don’t worry. We could, maybe, get together later? You can give me your number, we could hook up later tonight, or something.”

So, Louis rattles off his phone number, watches as Harry sends him a text, then takes it upon himself to ruin any sort of mood that they had created: “How long have you been coming to these meetings?”

Harry shrugs, looking away to avoid eye contact. “Not sure, maybe since my birthday in February? So, a couple months, at least. What about you; I’ve never seen you here before today.”

It’s Louis’ turn to shrug, “Yeah, today was supposed to be my first day. Not that I think I need it really.” He refuses to tell Harry anything, doesn’t want to wreck whatever they have going any more than he already has. Louis can only imagine what Harry would think of him if he admitted to blowing strangers in alleyways.

_But blowing strangers in the loo is alright?_

Shut up, stupid conscience.

Harry resumes his grip on Louis’ shoulders. “One more question, Louis; although, I think I know the answer. When I walked into that room, were you attracted to me?”

Rolling his eyes, Louis nods because obviously! Harry nods back, then switches his grip from Louis’ shoulders to his hands.

“Lou, I know this is going to sound super fucked up, but I really like you. Like, I know you might not believe me considering you only just met me today, at a workshop for sex addicts, but I really, really want to see you again.”

Louis just stares.

Harry stares back, all glowing green eyes. Idly, Louis wonders about the lights in the toilet, and how they’re reflecting off Harry’s irises like that.

“Louis?” Harry jolts him out of contemplation, and Louis smiles back, dreamily.

“Yeah, Harry. Text me. Or call. Whatever. I want to see you again, for sure.” He rambles, not looking away from Harry’s face. “I think I like you too, yeah, so, yeah.” He’s a mess but luckily for him, Harry just laughs.

“Perfect, Lou, I’ll definitely get in touch. You owe me,” He gestures down, and Louis flushes bright red. Harry drops Louis’ hands after one last squeeze, then slips out of the stall. The main door of the toilet slams shut seconds later.

And then it all hits Louis at once.

He’s done it _again_.

Louis lets out a scream of rage, and bursts out of the stall. What the fuck is wrong with him? He leans on the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. This shouldn’t have happened! He didn’t want this, didn’t want to be the person who was desperate enough to hook up with random strangers in alleys and public toilets.

But Harry… The moment that Harry had locked eyes with him, Louis had felt different. Sure, he had wanted Harry, but it was different than with the stranger from the other day. It was almost as if Harry had some sort of control over Louis, despite how charged up Louis felt. Louis would never have said no to Harry. Didn’t want to say no to Harry. He found himself reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. The text from Harry was right there, a cheeky banana emoji. With a choked laugh, Louis bravely sends Harry back his address, and a “ _come over whenever_ ”.

***

By midnight, Harry still hasn’t responded. It’s become a bit of a game for Louis, at this point. His phone will buzz with an email or Facebook notification, and Louis will lunge for it, heart racing, only to be disappointed.

Before he goes to bed, he cranks up the volume on his phone to maximum. He’s sure Harry will text him back overnight, and he doesn’t want to miss it.

***

Harry doesn’t text him that night. Or the next day. _Or_ the day after that. Louis is going crazy. He’s gotten himself off so many times. Sometimes, when he’s in the shower tugging roughly at his cock, he feels like there’s someone behind him. The steamy air smells eerily reminiscent of how he remembers Harry smelling. Louis is so fucked.

Finally, he takes it upon himself to actually go find Harry.

Louis goes back to the building where sex addict group meets, loitering awkwardly near the front doors in hopes of catching Harry before he can walk in. He eventually sees him come around the side of the building, arm wrapped casually around the shoulders of a familiar looking woman.

 _Andrea_ , Louis’ brain supplies, and the vague recollection of the woman who had sat next to him at that fateful meeting spurs him forward. It’s not that he’s angry, or that he thinks Harry is his or anything. But it’s just very clear what the pair had been doing together, and Louis has always been quick to become jealous.

“Harry!” He calls, striding forward purposefully. How _dare_ Harry be with that woman, when Louis is obviously readily available? Louis won’t stand for it.

“Harry!”

The man stops in his tracks, arm slipping off Andrea’s shoulder in shock. “Louis, hey! You came back!” Harry trots over, dimples out, but his eyes have an anxious look to them. Strange, Louis would have figured that they’d be doing that sparkly, glowing thing, especially in this bright sunlight. “I’m really glad you came back, Lou.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Sure, Harry, yeah,” He replies, glaring nastily at Andrea, who glares right back. “Why didn’t you text me?” Might as well jump right into it. He already is coming off as desperate as fuck.

Before he can reply, Harry gets cut off by Andrea coming and grabbing his hand.

“Babe, aren’t you coming in?” She simpers, and Louis rolls his eyes.

Harry brushes her off, “I’m really sorry, Lou, I got caught up in things.”

Louis wonders if Andrea is ‘things’.

_Well, if the shoe fits…_

“Harry,” Andrea whines, tugging at his arm, “Let’s go, come on.”

Harry turns to look at the woman, and now Louis can see his eyes flashing in the sun. “Andrea, can’t you see I’m busy here? Go in by yourself.” He practically orders, and Louis watches as Andrea pulls back, startled, but then walks away almost robotically. She doesn’t even glance back.

Harry focuses solely on Louis now. “I’m so sorry, Louis. But I’ve got my car, we could go for a drive?” He looks so innocent that Louis agrees. Also, Louis is petty, and Harry so blatantly dismissing Andrea is giving him _life_.

“Yeah, babe,” He follows close as Harry leads him away, and makes sure to sway his hips as he walks. Louis can feel Harry’s eyes on him. In the back of his mind, he is reminded of the times in the shower where he had felt this sensation. Coincidences.

They get in Harry’s car, and the first thing Harry does is grab Louis’ hand tightly. “I’m really sorry, Lou,” He apologizes, his sweet face contrite. “I really shouldn’t have ignored you like that.”

Louis can feel himself melting a little on the inside, but keeps his voice firm. “Look, Harry, I know the other day I probably came across as like, I don’t know, slutty or… I don’t know. But you said that you liked me, and I guess I just assumed that you’d follow up?” Letting out a deep breath, Louis squares his shoulders. Like ripping off a bandaid.

“Hmm,” Harry taps his lip, and Louis’ eyes track the motion hungrily. It doesn’t seem like Harry notices. “Like, I was instantly attracted to you. I wanted you, Louis. It was almost painful to let you walk out of that room alone. I’ve never felt like that before. Instant attraction, really. I like that about you. I didn’t want to let you go, but things came up.” His tone is contrite, “But I promise I thought about you the entire time. It was like I was with you, almost. You’re irresistible to me.”

Louis is stunned, “You think I’m irresistible?”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Of course! Do you not know that? Don’t you pay attention to how people react to you?”

Louis just shrugs. Then, “But still, you couldn’t have spared the time for just one text?”

It’s Harry’s turn to shrug, “I can’t really explain that, sorry.”

“So, you’re a drug dealer.” It’s a logical assumption.

“No! Oh my god, Louis, no,” Harry shakes his head vehemently. “No drugs, nothing bad, I promise.” He reaches out to turn Louis’ head towards him, making sure to look right into Louis’ eyes, and Louis notices how his smile is turned up more on one end. It’s cute. “But, I’m here now, right? That’s what’s important. You came to me, and now we’re together.”

Louis nods, blinking lazily, caught up in Harry’s gaze. “So…” He starts but can’t bring himself to finish.

“So,” Harry fills in the blanks, “Should we get going?”

Louis doesn’t care. He wants to get his hand in Harry’s pants, now; he couldn’t care about where they end up.

“My place,” He hears himself murmur, feels himself reach over to palm at Harry’s crotch. It’s like he’s in a dream. “I know you have the address.”

***

In hindsight, Louis isn’t sure how they make it to his flat without crashing the vehicle. But they do, all while Louis manages to get Harry off with a spectacular bit of road head. Not that he’s bragging or anything.

They crash through the door of the flat, Louis clinging to Harry, one hand trying to unbutton the remaining three buttons on Harry’s shirt. “Bed?” He asks breathily.

Harry pushes him up against the wall instead. “Want you here,” He grunts, somehow managing to rip off his own shirt and Louis’ as well. “Gonna take you against the wall.”

“Yeah?” Louis pants, hands now working on the buttons of their jeans, “Gonna hold me up and fuck me?”

A deep groan rumbles through Harry’s chest into Louis’ and it is quite possibly the sexiest thing Louis has ever felt. Harry has to let Louis down to get the rest of their clothing off, and they take a moment to stare at each other.

“You’re beautiful, Lou,” Harry takes in Louis’ body hungrily, “Love your cock. Your hot little body.”

Louis returns the favour, running his gaze over Harry, noticing all the details. Harry has the cutest little love handles, he thinks. He’s also covered in tattoos, which, yes please. And his cock! Louis is practically salivating. It’s long and just the right thickness. Uncut. And it’s flushed to an angry red, tip already leaking pre-come. Louis wants it. Now.

“Fuck me,” He demands, “Hurry up and fuck me, Styles.”

Harry wastes no time in picking Louis back up again. He slams him against the wall, and then snakes an arm underneath Louis’ ass to grab a handful. “Shit, no lube,” Harry grunts, then shrugs, “Change of plans. Bedroom now.”

“Caveman,” Louis laughs, wiggling his crotch against Harry’s. “Me Harry, me horny. Bedroom. Ungh ungh ungh. Whoa!” He goes sailing through the air as Harry tosses him on to the bed. “Careful!”

“No careful, sex now,” Harry keeps up the joke as he roots around in the bedside drawer for lube. “You good with mango flavour? Or you’ve got unflavoured somewhere, probably.”

“Don’t care, just hurry up and get inside me,” Louis is impatient but who can blame him? He can’t be bothered to deal with how Harry seems to know exactly where to find his lube. He’s dealing with quite possibly the world’s most attractive man. Certainly, the world’s best cock. Louis settles on his hands and knees before looking back at Harry. “Is this okay with you?”

Nodding frantically, Harry agrees. “Yeah, yeah, shit Lou, you look so good. Fuck, if you could see your ass right now, so beautiful.” He reaches a hand out to palm at a cheek, then sneaks a quick pinch in. “Still not into the pain thing?”

“Give me time,” Louis responds, then pushes his ass back impatiently so that Harry gets going. “But for now, give me your cock.”

“Gotta work up to that, babe,” Harry just laughs. But Louis can hear the snick of the lube bottle as Harry opens it; he imagines Harry slicking up his fingers, and shivers in anticipation. The reality is much better than his imagination though, as Harry circles his rim with one finger. “Good?”

“So good, so good,” Louis pants, then forces himself to relax as Harry pushes his finger in. “God, Harry, fuck!”

“ _You’re_ good, Lou,” Harry says, crooking his finger back and forth. Louis loses track of time before hearing Harry ask if he can add another.

“ _Yes_ ,” Louis draws out the word as another finger joins the first. He feels so full, like nothing before had ever compared to this. Then, “ _Fuck_ , Harry, _yes_!” Harry hits his prostate, causing a bone-deep shiver. Louis could honestly cum right then. “Give me your cock, Harry, need it, need it.”

Harry kisses his shoulder blade, “Not yet, babe, gonna give you another finger. Can you take three for me, Lou? Know you can, you’re so good. Got to get you ready for my cock.”

Louis is practically sobbing into one of his pillows as Harry pushes three thick fingers into his hole. They’re so good, so thick, and Harry is hitting his prostate on every second jab.

“Please, Harry!” He wails.

When Harry eventually pulls out, Louis expects him to slick up his cock immediately. But Harry takes his time, and places a kiss right on Louis’ empty hole. Louis comes. Hard. So hard that it takes him a couple of second to reorient himself. He can hear Harry jacking himself off behind him, and motions feebly for Harry to stop.

“In me,” Louis chokes out, “C’mon, Harry, fuck me. Come in me.”

“Shit, Lou, yeah,” And Harry lines himself up before slowly pushing in. It is the fullest Louis has ever felt. Harry’s cock must have been crafted by the gods because Louis feels like he is having a religious experience. It doesn’t last long; Harry builds up a quick and dirty rhythm, his hands clenching at Louis’ hips. “I’m gonna come, Louis, gonna, _fuck_ , come!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Louis chants, pushing his ass back every time Harry rocks in, “Come for me, Harry, come in me!”

With a loud grunt, Harry comes hard. Louis can feel him slicking up his inner walls, can feel Harry’s cum pulsing out. He feels totally and utterly fucked, and he loves it. Louis loves it even more when Harry doesn’t pull out immediately; instead, Harry manages to roll them both over so that they’re spooning on their sides.

“Was that okay?” Harry whispers, and Louis manages to turn his head to catch Harry’s eye.

He nods, “Definitely okay, more than okay.” Louis grabs one of Harry’s hands, entwines their fingers together. “It was so good, Harry, you were so good.”

Harry’s answering grin is sunny. Louis manages to stick a finger in a dimple.

***

The pair manage a quick nap then another round of amazing sex before they start to feel hungry. Louis is sitting on the kitchen worktop while Harry rummages in the fridge for ingredients for fajitas.

“I’ve got a question for you, Lou,” Harry plunks a head of lettuce on the counter. Louis crinkles his nose at it. When did he even buy that?

“What’s that, love?”

“Why’d you show up at that first meeting?” And shit, Louis doesn’t really want to answer that question. How is he supposed to answer it? He imagines that ‘ _well, Harry, I was a big old slag and blew someone in a dirty alley before I realized I needed to get my life together_ ’ won’t go over so well. But then, why wouldn’t it? Louis had clearly caught Harry after fooling around with Andrea only hours ago!

“Why’d you fuck Andrea?” Louis shoots back, quite possibly unnecessarily angry.

Harry looks stunned, “I didn’t fuck Andrea!”

“No?”

“No!” Harry’s eyebrows furrow together angrily, “I let her suck me off. Jesus, Louis, I have standards!”

Louis gapes at the man standing in front of him, “Seriously?” He shrieks. “You let her suck your cock and then you put it in me?”

Harry face flashes from confused to indignant, "What, no! I would never do that to you, Louis. It was the other day; I didn’t think you’d be coming back, and, well, I was lonely.” His tone makes it sound like he couldn’t help it. Louis highly doubts that.

“Oh, my god,” Louis cradles his head in his hands. “Jesus Christ, you are such a slag, Harry!”

“Me?” Harry gestures so widely that he knocks the lettuce off the counter. “I can only assume that you’re just as slutty as I am, Louis. You’re the one who showed up at that meeting to get help!”

They pause, chests heaving and eyes angry, before Louis lunges off the worktop and captures Harry’s lips in a bruising kiss. He nips at Harry’s plush lower lips, causing the taller man to hiss in pain. “You want to know why I was there, Harry?” He pants out between kisses, “You want me to tell you all about how I sucked off some stranger in an alley? You want to hear about how I almost asked my _best friend_ to fuck me in the queue for the cinema?” The pair stumble into Louis’ kitchen table, and Harry’s hands tighten on Louis’ hips. “How about the number of times I wanked to you in the shower? Could practically smell you!”

Harry jerks himself away, lips shiny with saliva, eyes wide, “What?”

It’s a real blow to Louis, seeing Harry’s reaction. He feels like he’s being stabbed in the chest. “What do you mean, ‘what’? You’ve obviously got problems too, Harry!”

“No, no,” Harry shakes his head, “What d’you mean, you could smell me in the shower?”

Louis stares, wide-eyed, “Um, I imagined it?” This is not how he imagined this conversation going. If he was being honest with himself, Louis didn’t think there’d be this much talking at all. Harry matches his wide-eyed look, and Louis hurries to defend himself. “It’s not my fault, you smell good!”

Harry barks out a single laugh, “’Not my fault’.” Louis isn’t sure if he’s imagining the sarcasm in Harry’s voice as he echoes Louis but he chooses to ignore it. “It’s okay, Louis, we’ve both made mistakes. But we’re here, together. Who cares about the past?”

And, just like that, Louis is drawn in again. Something about Harry’s voice pushes away any negative thoughts he was having, and, inexplicably, Louis can feel himself growing hard. He looks up to see Harry’s eyes staring at him intently, glowing under the kitchen lights. A small part of him wonders at that, has picked up that Harry’s eyes are _not_ _right_. Louis pushes those thoughts away; it’s not hard, because his thoughts quickly become clouded with want.

“Harry,” He murmurs weakly, feeling his knees give out so that Harry has to hold him up. Louis can’t look away, can’t help but want to give all of himself to this man in front of him.

“Louis,” Harry answers him back with a searing kiss, sweeping him up and carrying him out of the kitchen, back towards the bedroom. Louis barely notices the trip, doesn’t even feel it as Harry places him on the bed. “Can I?” He hears Harry ask, and he forces himself to come back to awareness. “Lou, babe, I’m going to take off your pants, is that okay?”

“Yes,” Louis responds, nodding vigorously, “Harry, please, yes.” He lifts his hips up to aid Harry’s fumbling hands. The fog that had clouded his thoughts only minutes ago is clearing, and Louis feels hyper-aware of the situation now. Harry’s hands are hot on his skin, the sheets are scratchy under his back, the room is dark and-

 _Harry’s eyes are glowing_.

They’re not focusing in Louis’ face, instead they’re scanning Louis’ torso, taking in the lines of his stomach hungrily. But Louis can’t look away, not because he’s drawn in, but because he is _horrified_.

“Oh, my god,” He breathes, and Harry’s head snaps up. Louis immediately closes his eyes, desperate not to look into Harry’s unearthly ones. He can’t let himself be drawn in. “Harry, what?”

The room is still, like no one is breathing. Then Harry is gone.

***

It’s been 24 hours, and Louis still can’t get warm. He’s bundled up in jumpers, under a heavy duvet on the couch. He’s got Google pulled up on his laptop, and he’s staring hard at the blinking cursor in the search bar. What the fuck is he supposed to type in? ‘ _What has glowing eyes and can vanish without a trace_ ’? ‘ _Glowing eyes, loves sex_ ’?

“What the fuck,” He groans out, elongating the vowels. He types it in, not expecting anything. Clearly, he’s gone ‘round the bend.

Except, “’Sex demons’?” Louis sees the words pop up multiple times. “What the fuck?” He echoes his earlier words, stunned. “What the actual, literal fuck?”

He clicks the first link, not sure what to expect. It’s a wiki article on incubi, and Louis doesn’t know how he feels. Everything in article relates to something that Harry’s done, or how Louis has felt being with Harry. Louis’ insides grow even colder as he remembers how he would go into a sort of trance whenever Harry would lock eyes with him. And the glowing eyes… Those were a real dead giveaway.

Harry isn’t human.

But is he a, what is it called, an incubus? A demon that uses sex to steal souls, shows up in dreams… Louis leans back on the couch, clutching the duvet close to him. He’s not sure how he could tell if Harry has been leaching at his soul, but Louis remembers how he could feel eyes on him in the shower, how it seemed like he could smell Harry in the steam. With a shaking hand, he reaches for his mobile, types out a message.

“ _We need to talk_.”

***

As expected, Harry doesn’t respond to Louis’ text. Louis stays on the couch, the wiki article still pulled up on the laptop. He’s so cold, and he has zero energy. Vaguely, he wonders if this is how a person feels if they’ve had their soul sucked out. There’s a joke in there, probably, but Louis can’t bring himself to find it.

He’s just about to drift off to sleep when he catches movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Louis.”

Harry steps out of the shadows. His face is pale, eyes dull, but Louis still tenses up, tries not to look at the man, no, demon, directly.

“Get out, Harry,” Louis tries to order, but it comes out as a whisper. He’s embarrassed to note that his eyes have to water. Is Harry even that thing’s real name? “I know what you are, Harry. Get out, get away!” He sobs into the duvet, flinching back as he can feel Harry draw closer.

Harry stops, hand outstretched, “Louis, no, you don’t understand.” He sounds like he’s in pain. Louis doesn’t care. “I don’t want that with you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Louis whispers, still hiding his face in the duvet. “You _used_ me! You _hurt_ me!”

“No!” Harry breaks the stillness, lunging forward, voice desperate. “I wouldn’t, Louis, I can’t. Not anymore.”

Before Harry can get a hand on him, Louis forces himself off the couch. He gestures to the laptop, to the article still glowing brightly on the screen. “Explain this, Harry, explain to me what this means. Because it seems to me that you’re a fucking _demon_ , Harry. This shit shouldn’t be real, but here you are. Your eyes _glow_ , Harry, what the fuck!”

Harry doesn’t even bother to look at the screen, raw-bitten lips pressed tightly together. “I didn’t mean to…” He trails off, shrugging helplessly. “After that first time, in the toilets, I knew I wanted you, Louis. But I didn’t want you for _that_! It’s why I ignored your text, why I went for Andrea instead. I tried to stay away from you because I was worried I wouldn’t be able to control myself.” Louis watches as Harry tugs a hank of his hair roughly, face clearly agonized. “But then you came back, you found me, and I couldn’t help myself. Just as much as you wanted me, I wanted you, Louis. It’s why I came back tonight. I can’t stay away.” He ends in a teary whisper.

Louis doesn’t move. He can’t decide whether or not to believe Harry’s words. When he voices this, Harry shakes his head.

“I don’t know how to make you believe me,” He says, “But I promise you, Louis, that when I said I liked you, I wasn’t lying. You’re different than anyone I’ve ever been with. I want to take care of you; I like that you and I can have fun together, that we vibe together.”

“You were in the shower, weren’t you,” Louis elects to ignore how Harry’s speech is affecting him.

Harry closes his eyes in a pained look, “Yes.”

“Did I even _want_ to have sex with you? Or did you make me feel that?” He’s so, so scared of the answer.

“Yes, Lou, I promise, I would never, ever make you do anything you didn’t want.” Harry wrings his hands together, eyes open and pleading now. “All the times we got together, they were mutual, I swear.”

It takes a moment for Louis to mentally evaluate those situations before he nods. “I guess you’re not wrong. But you obviously did something to me.”

“It wasn’t much!” Harry takes a hesitant step forward, then another when Louis doesn’t stop him. “I just wanted to amp up the experience for you. Wanted to make you feel good.” He’s within touching distance now, “Louis, I promise, I didn’t do anything other than make you feel good.”

“And spy on me in the shower.”

Shame fills Harry’s eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Taking a deep breath, Louis assesses everything Harry has told him. He doesn’t doubt Harry’s sincerity, not like he initially thought he would.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” He whispers.

A shy smile spreads over Harry’s face, dimples faintly appearing. “Louis, I swear on my life, that I have never felt this way about anyone else. From the moment I saw you, I felt like you were different. It wasn’t just about sex with you, or your soul. Not like that anyway. Your spirit is amazing, Louis. It burns so brightly,” He takes in a deep breath, and Louis finds himself leaning towards Harry, eager to hear the rest, “I could never take that away from you. But I do regret how I handled this, Louis. I let us get carried away.”

“It’s not all your fault, Harry,” Louis responds truthfully, “I could never have said no to you.” He lets the corner of the duvet fall to the ground as he reaches out a hand. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

Hesitantly, Harry reaches out to grasp Louis’ hand. “I’m sorry about everything, Louis. I just hope that you can forgive me.”

Louis squeezes his hand softly, “Could you… give me a couple of days? I just have to figure things out.”

“’Course, Lou,” Harry squeezes back, smile growing, “You know how to get a hold of me.” One final squeeze, then Harry steps back, disappearing mid-step.

 _That_ would take some getting used to.

***

Not even 12 hours go by before Louis finds himself in the shower, gasping out Harry’s name, coming to the memory of Harry’s fingers filling him up so, so nicely. It may be sick, but it’s what spurs Louis to make his decision. He doesn’t even bother to dry off properly before he’s on his phone, typing out a message to Harry, praying fervently that it doesn’t take days for him to show up.

In the meantime, Louis throws himself on his bed, intent on drawing another orgasm out, this time to the thought of Harry’s mouth. He’s just slicked up his fingers when a deep voice comes from the door to his bedroom.

“Would you like some help?” Harry’s eyebrow is cocked mischievously, but his eyes look anxious, like he’s worried Louis will turn him down.

Let him worry, Louis thinks, smirking to himself. “I’ll let you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the ending. I hate endings. I don't want it to end!


End file.
